Memories
by Mary Without Sound
Summary: What thoughts go through the mind of a CSI when a suspect's revenge is exacted? WARNINGCHARACTER DEATH I don't own CSI or anything like that, so don't go all legal on me!


"Memories"

He could feel the blood leaving his body. Gil Grissom felt the life drain from him as he laid on that wet pavement.

"Fuck man, we need to get the fuck out of here!" The shorter of the young men told the other. He tugged on the taller man's sleeve and took off out of the parking lot.

"PUSSY!" The taller man yelled to the shorter man as he scampered off. Tall man then turned his attention back to Gil. "Well, well, well. Look who we have here. You don't remember me do you?" He leaned down so that Gil could get a good look at his face.

Gil didn't bother straining to see if he could remember. It didn't matter anymore. Gil knew that unless he got to a hospital in the next couple of minutes that there would be no hope of living. He knew sure as he knew his own name that this little punk wasn't going to get him medical help.

"It's ok, you don't have to remember me. I remember you. You and your little gang of nerds told the cops that I raped that girl. You sat on that stand in the courtroom and told the jury, judge and even my family how I was guilty." The man told Grissom.

Suddenly, in flashes, Gil remembered seeing the man in the courtroom. He was right, Gil sat on the stand and displayed the evidence that proved his guilt. Gripping his chest where the bullet had entered his body, Gil groaned in pain.

"I got a surprise for you, asshole. I didn't do it."

"They all say that." Gil managed to say through clenched teeth.

"Fuck you." The shooter raged before kicking Grissom in the chest. "I rotted in jail for 6 years thinking about how I was going to get my revenge. I spent every second of my day thinking about this moment. And you wanna know something funny?" He looked at Grissom, who was growing more and more pale by the second as the pool of blood around him expanded. "It wasn't even half as satisfying as I thought it would be."

Gil's eyes opened. He knew what he was going to say next, and it broke his heart that he had to hear it, knowing that he could never do anything about it.

"Maybe I should pay a little visit to that little bitch who went to the cops. Yeah, maybe I should show her how right she was when she told the cops that I was a monster. She would be about 26 now, I bet that ass has gotten sweeter too. Hell, if I am going to go down for tapping it, I might as well actually do it, right?" He let the devious grin consume his face when he looked at Gil.

"My team will catch you. You may kill me, and you may go after her, but in the end my team will get you for it and you'll die in prison." Gil verbally spat at him with all the life he had left.

"Old man, you need to save your energy if you want to live." The shooter said. It's too late, Gil knew he wasn't lasting much longer. The shooter placed his face very close to Gil's. "I didn't do it." He shoved Gil on his side and ran in the same direction that his friend ran moments before.

Gil held on to the hope that someone heard the shot. He kept his ears keen on any sounds he heard, hoping it would be someone who could help him. After what seemed like an eternity went by without hearing a single person approach, Gil felt his life slipping away.

He told himself to think about the things in life he loved. Bugs, his mother, his job and most of all, his team. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the fact that he was laying on the pavement of the parking lot outside his apartment. He let his mind fill with moments he had remembered between himself and the people he loved.

He remembered going to the fair with his mom for the first time and riding a roller coaster. He could see the long dread locks Warrick had when he started working at the lab. All the after shift drinks with Brass to take the edge off a rough case. All the failed attempts at flirtation between himself and a couple of his female co-workers. All the times he saw hints of hero worship in Nick or Greg's eyes when he would help them figure out something they were having trouble with.

The memory that kept creeping into his mind the most was of all the after shift breakfasts the night shift used to have together. He, Nick, Sara, Catherine, and Warrick all sitting in a booth at an all night diner. Everyone laughing and chatting. A tear fell down his cheek as he took his last breaths. Not because he knew he was going to be gone soon. The tear came from the realization that he was lucky to know all these people, his friends.

Gil Grissom took a breath and let it out sharply. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore. His pain was fading and was being replaced with calm. As he gave in to a smile at the memory of sitting on his mom's lap at an opera when he was a boy, his chest fell under a heavy exhale, and didn't rise again.

Gil Grissom was dead.

THE END.


End file.
